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by ScreamChosen
Summary: .RENAMED. Buffy is in a 'relationship' with a heartless bastard. She's got a new job. What will happen when old friends get back together?  was 'Betcha Didn't Know'
1. Prologue

Disclaimer- Everyone but me. Unfortunately, Im poor, so I own not one thing...'cept my computer, but you cant have it! So don't sue.

Rating- I have no clue. Just put it in the highest rating category, 'cause god knows where my head is aiming this towards.

Summary- Buffy is in a 'relationship' with a heartless bastard. She's got a new job. Maybe her boss can help her.

Pairings- Hello! B/A of course! The bad guy in every one of my stories is the same, so you've been warned..kinda. There is slight B/R, B/S(platonic), and F/S. The main couples are B/A and F/S.

A/N - This is an original, I think, I dunno anymore. Im too old to be using my head this much, so Im just gonna write–its what I do bestest. lol

A/N 2- Also, so sorry its so short. The rest will be longer. I just needed to get this out there.

A/N 3- The title is from a System of a Down song. They rule...booyah.

Buffy Summers woke up slowly, her blurry eyes adjusting so she could see the time on the alarm clock. It read 7:13am. Groaning softly, she slipped herself from her boyfriends grasp and stood, heading for the bathroom. She had gotten a new job with her best friend, Faith, and didn't want to be late for her first day. She heard a moan from the bed, and rushed out of the room all the more quicker, trying to leave without having to deal with him.

Brushing her teeth as quickly as she could, she was happy she took out her clothes the night before. Slipping them on, she brushed her hair, putting it up into a high pony tail. Digging through her makeup, she put on some lip gloss and a tiny bit of eyeliner, trying not to overdo it too much. When she finally felt she was perfect, she opened the door to the bathroom and was welcomed by her boyfriends unhappy face.

"Riley. Why are you up so early?"

"You're not in bed."

"Yeah, its because I have a job. And if I don't get going, Im gonna be late."

She tried to get past him, but he stopped her again, making her back up a few steps back into the bathroom. His hand reached up to play with the buttons of her jacket, and she felt her stomach clench in fear. She didn't know what his intentions were, but she knew they were going to get her fired if she didn't try and stop him.

"Why don't you just take of this pretty little dress suit you've got here and get back into bed. And maybe we wont have a problem."

"I-I cant. I have work. Please, Riley, I have to go."

"No you don't!"

He raised his voice slightly at her, making her flinch. He grabbed her arm and tugged her to him–she knew she was going to bruise. The ringing of the doorbell stopped Riley from tearing Buffy's skirt from her body. Once she saw he wasn't attacking any longer, she brushed past him to go answer the door. On the other side of the door was Faith.

"Hey, B. I came to pick you up, figuring Riley needs the car for-," she looked over Buffy's shoulder to see if Riley was near. He was standing at the bedroom door. "..something," she finished.

Buffy turned to look at him, then she turned back to Faith.

"I'll be right out."

"'Kay, B."

Buffy left the door open as she went to get her shoes on and retrieve her purse. Making her way to the door again, she looked back at Riley and sighed.

"I'll be back soon."

She walked out and closed the door behind herself.


	2. Chapter 1

**This part contains descriptive sexual situations. **

Her new job was going wonderfully. Her boss was nice, she and Faith had lunch every day together, and she was doing something she loved. Computers were her passion, and when Faith told her there was an opening at ATU, she jumped at the chance at a position there. Amalgamated Transit Union was the largest organization representing transit workers in the United States, and her pay wasn't half bad either because of that. Her job was to put the clients information into the computers, to be processed and checked. It wasn't hard, so she was always able to finish early and get a head start on the next days work to prevent pile up. She didn't mind staying late either if she had to. Some nights, she preferred working to going home.

Her boss, William 'The Bloody' Randall was a good man. She had asked him why they called him 'William the Bloody' and he told her it was because he bled uncontrollably whenever he got into a fight. Faith flirted with him, calling him a sensitive man. She began dating him a few days after they had gotten their jobs.

Her friend seemed happy with her new relationship, but unfortunately for Buffy, her relationship was still in a rut. All Riley demanded from her was sex and dinner, and all she asked from him was to use some protection when they made love. He refused, and she had to go on the pill. She couldn't afford to get pregnant. She was the primary bread winner in the house and if she lost her job, god knows what would happen.

"Hey, B," Faith called to her, approaching her cubicle.

Buffy turned around in her chair and smiled. Her friend was practically glowing.

"Faith. What's up?"

"Me and Spike are gonna go out clubbing tonight. Wanna join?"

Buffy raised her eyebrow at the nickname she used. She knew she was referring to William, but why did she call him Spike?

"He had his poker buddies over last night and they called him that. I've been teasing him all day about it."

Buffy laughed when Faith answered her unasked question, knowing now what to call him when he came around.

"So you in?"

"Sure. Why not?"

Faith headed down the hall, but stopped mid-thought and turned back around towards the blonde.

"Spike said he has someone for you to meet. A cute someone."

"Faith," she whined, swirling around in her chair to face her. "I already have a boyfriend."

"Finn? He's a piece of shit. You should have dumped him years ago."

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. She didn't need to have this conversation.

"No. I don't want to meet anyone new. I have Riley. That's enough."

"What is it, B? You afraid of him?"

"No, Faith! I'm just happy with him. Is that too hard to understand?"

She didn't mean to yell, and by the look on Faith's face, she wasn't expecting her too, either.

"Alright, B. Don't have to bite my head off."

"Faith, I-I'm sorry."

Faith just shook her head and smiled slightly, continuing her walk down the hallway and towards her own cubicle. Buffy sighed and turned towards her desk again, kicking herself for snapping at Faith. She didn't deserve it, she was just trying to help. With a frustrated huff, she continued to type away, hurriedly finishing her work for the day.

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She made it home later then usual, which she knew Riley would be overjoyed about. Sighing, she opened the front door of the house and closed it silently behind her, dropping her purse on the ground. She had really made a mess today. Screaming at Faith, ruining her own plans to go out, and even dropping a whole thing of ink on her paperwork. She had done a number on herself. Now, she was physically and emotionally tired.

She headed to the kitchen, kicking off her shoes and leaving them by the entrance, she made her way to the fridge to finally make her and Riley's dinner. Maybe steak?

"He should like that."

She murmured to herself, taking it out and placing it on the counter. Hopefully, she'd be able to prepare and cook it before he woke up.

"Buffy!"

She flinched as she listened to Riley calling her name. He was obviously awake.

"Buffy, you home?"

"Yeah, I'm in the kitchen."

No use trying to lie to him. She continued to chop the fat off the slabs of meat, trying to ignore the aching feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach. Was he angry because it was late? It was only six o'clock, and she was usually home by five thirty. She wasn't that late. She heard his footsteps entering the kitchen and coming up behind her. Her hands shook as she seasoned the meat, and slowly placed it in the oily pan where it sizzled and popped. She felt his hands on her waist, feeling for god knows what.

"Have you been gaining weight?"

She swallowed hard and shook her head. She didn't eat anymore then usual. Actually, she ate less now. He turned her around, effectively causing her to gasp, flinching at his dominance. He, without even looking at her, began unbuttoning her fancy black shirt. She stared down at the ground as he stripped her of her clothing, ashamed. He pushed the shirt off her shoulders, letting it fall in a heap on the ground behind her. He examined her body; her ribs were practically poking out from underneath her skin, her belly holding little or no fat at all. Her breast size had deteriorated quickly, leaving her in an A instead of her usual B. But, he was not satisfied with what he saw. Pushing her skirt down her legs with little or no effort at all, he looked at her legs, skinnier then they should have been, but still not good enough.

"How much do you weigh now?"

She stuttered softly, wringing her hands tightly in front of herself.

"I-I don't know."

"Guess."

He was being oddly gentle with her, not yelling or screaming or hatefully calling her names. He was stroking her neck, focusing mostly on her collarbones that were now sticking out every time she took a very deep breath.

"I-I guess...103?"

He was silent, the only sound in the room was the sizzling steak. She let out a shaky breath, hoping that he would let her off easy. She was standing there, half naked in front of him, waiting for something to happen. His hand on her neck stopped it's gentle movements, and squeezed, effectively choking her. His other hand joined the first and she cried out, desperately trying to get his hands off of her neck. She was struggling and squirming against him, and it only made him more angry. He tightened his grip on her and dragged her along the length of the counter, towards the refrigerator. They knocked over the steak, the hot oil and meat flying to the ground. He slammed her up against the cool metal of the fridge, holding her in place. She was sobbing, gasping for air.

"Listen to me," he whispered, shaking her with such force she thought she would have permanent damage. "Listen, Buffy."

She opened her eyes and tried to catch her breath, looking into his hate filled eyes. What did she see in them?

"You will lose the weight, and until you do, you will not eat. Do you understand me?"

She nodded weakly, coming very close to losing consciousness. He let her go and she fell in a crumpled heap at his feet, gasping and crying. He stared down at her, a cold hard stare, and then turned away from her, heading back towards the bedroom.

"Clean that up and make me something else. I had steak two days ago."

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After Riley ate his dinner, barbecue flavored ribs, she found herself kneeled down in front of him as he watched t.v., her face buried in between his legs. She cried and begged for him to just let her go to sleep, but he refused to grant her any form of mercy. She sucked on him vigorously, her tears freely flowing down her cheeks. Her tongue worked on the underside of his throbbing cock, trying to get him to come as fast as she could. She scraped her teeth lightly against the tip, receiving a moan in return. She kept her mouth at the tip, where he seemed to be the most reactive, and brought her hands up to cup his balls and stroke the base of his erection. She didn't want to do this. Every fiber of her being was telling her to stop, run, get away, but her mind told her otherwise. She knew she had to stay. She had no choice anymore.

She removed her mouth from him, and just stroked him, jerking him off.

"Riley," she whispered brokenly, her tear-filled eyes looking up at him. He glanced at her, but said nothing. "C-can I stop now?"

He stayed silent and lifted his hand up towards her. She flinched visibly and prepared herself for the blow she never received. He ran his fingers through her hair and tugged her head up to look at him. She knew better then to stop her hands movements.

"Did I come yet?"

She shook her head.

"So, what made you think I'd let you stop?"

Forcefully, he shoved her head back down, and instinctively, she took him in her mouth again.

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Riley told her to take the next day off from work, so she did, calling William and telling him she was sick. He had asked her if she was okay and she lied to him, telling him she had just gotten a slight cold and was feeling drowsy. He gave her the okay to stay home and promised her that he'd tell Faith she wouldn't be in. She thanked him and hung up, leaving herself to spend the day with Riley. After she got off the phone with her boss, she laid back in bed with her boyfriend, happy that he was asleep. It gave her a little while longer to sleep.

She did sleep, but not for long. She was awoken by rough hands grabbing at her breasts, and her passage being ripped open to accommodate her boyfriends violently thrusting cock. She cried, but she did not fight.

"Riley, slow down. It hurts, please."

She whimpered, trying to block out the intense pain of his manhood practically ripping apart her insides. He held her hands up above her head with one of his larger ones, proving dominance, while simultaneously covering her mouth with his other. He did not want to hear her mouth so early in the morning. He just wanted a fuck. She cried, and as his thrusts became more violent and brutal, she screamed, the sounds of her pain and suffering muffled by his powerful hands.

The whole morning consisted of rough fucks and unloving touches. How did she even get herself into this mess in the first place? She couldn't even remember. She just wished for a different life; a life that didn't consist of beatings and midmorning rapes.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"Faith," William called to her as she made her way down the hall.

She turned to him, smiling brightly at his panting form.

"I think you need a little more exercise there, Spikey."

She giggled at the glare she received. Sometimes he was just so cute.

"I just ran all the way from my office to tell you Buffy isn't going to be in today. I'd think you'd be grateful."

Immediately, her whole demeanor changed. Buffy never missed work. Never. Not even when they were waitresses together all those years ago. Buffy was no flake.

"DId she say why?"

"Yeah. She said she had a cold, or something equivalent to that. Why?"

He knew little or nothing about Riley's abusive tendencies, so he didn't know why Faith was having a nervous breakdown right in front of him.

"Buffy is never sick. I have to go. I have to see if she's alright."

"Wait, wait!"

Spike held her back from running out the building in a hysterical frenzy. Not only would she probably get into some kind of accident in the condition she was in, but what if Buffy really was in trouble? She'd just go and get herself in trouble too. And William would not allow anyone touching his woman.

"Why don't you just call? You could be overreacting."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. You're right."

Slowly, she began to calm, regaining her senses. Hurriedly, she looked around the office, spotting a nerdy looking man right next to her with a phone. She rushed over to his desk and snatched the phone right out of his hand, hanging up on whomever he was talking to and dialing Buffy's number. Spike just gave a nod to the man, seeing his frustration and confusion.

The phone rang loudly and uncontrollably, waking Buffy from her blissful unconsciousness. She opened her eyes and glanced to her right, seeing her naked boyfriend staring back at her.

"Remember, you're sick."

He reminded her, his voice cold as she reached over to the night stand and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Buffy. Jesus Christ. Are you okay? The phones been ringing for like five minutes."

"I'm sorry, Faith. I was sleeping."

"Are you okay? You never take off from work."

"Yeah, I know, I'll be fine. I'm taking some cold medicine and I should be back tomorrow."

"Are you sure? Do you want me to pick you up something warm to eat?"

"No, no, I'm okay. Riley's been taking care of me."

Her voice wavered slightly when she said those last words. She didn't know how she found it so easy to lie, but she knew it would be safer for all those who were involved if she did.

"Well, alright, B. See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow."

She hung up the phone, letting out a shaky breath she didn't even know she was holding. She felt his hand on her shoulder and she jumped, her skin crawling with disgust as he caressed her gently.

"Good girl."

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**Yeah, I know I made Riley a real beast in this one. I also know that towards the end of the chapter, it began to lack in goodness, so I hope you all can forgive me. The next chapter will be coming soon, and I hope you enjoy this one while you wait. Haha. **


	3. Chapter 2

"Riley. Riley, please. Please. Stop. Don't. Ow. NoNoNoNoNo."

She tugged on the ropes that bound her to the headboard, leaving her helpless to his hateful actions and brutal ways. He had fucked her multiple times, leaving her covered in his semen. The petite girl cried as her boyfriend hovered over her quivering body, a devious gleam in his eye. She knew that whatever he was planning, it would involve him hurting her in some way. It was always pain towards her. He leaned down, covering her body with is own. He breathed in her face, and she flinched at his hard breath on her face and neck.

"I'm gonna make you come."

Her eyes widened in horror, already knowing this wouldn't be as pleasant as if someone who actually loved her said it.

"I'm going to make you come, and you'll live with the knowledge that you liked this."

He ran his fingers along her collar bone, caressing her as he made his way down to her breasts. He teased and played with her nipples, forcing them to become erect at the contact. She cried out, squirming away from him. She didn't want this.

"Stop, Riley. Please."

She cried, watching as he brought his head down and caught a nipple in his mouth, worrying it with his blunt teeth. It wasn't fair. He knew from when he used to be gentle, he used to be loving, what got her aroused. They had dated and made love several times before he became violent. She didn't know why he turned, but he did, and now he knew everything about her body.

"NoNoNoNoNo, please."

She watched as he molested her with his mouth, torturing her with the fact that she had no control over the events that were about to occur. She couldn't stop him, and she couldn't stop her godforsaken body. He pulled away from her and looked down at his handy work; her chest was heaving, her nipples hardened from the attention they received--cute and pink. He smiled at her, the smile of the devil.

"Have I gotten you wet yet?"

She whimpered and shook her head, hoping he'd just leave her alone. He had fucked her for all she was worth, even beat her once, wasn't that enough? He trailed a hand down her thigh, her skin jumping at the contact. He felt wrong to her. She hissed when he stroked her sex, her nether regions still in extreme pain from the abuse it received. She tried to move away from him, but he refused to break contact with her.

"Don't. Don't. Don't."

She mumbled mindlessly, trying to keep her mind off the way he was touching her. It hurt, in more ways then just one. She hated him for doing this to her. Why, god? She let out a yelp as he began to stroke her bundle of nerves, trying to arouse her. She wouldn't allow him to humiliate her, to hurt her not only physically, but mentally also. She tried to block him out, ignoring the way he touched her, lovingly, sweetly. Just like he used to.

His fingers played delicately with her sensitive nubbin, faking his way back into her mind. He used to love being with her, but then he felt like he needed more; more of her, more of the control and dominance. He watched as her body began to relax, her resolve and fight obviously weakening. She could only fight for so long without her body's cooperation.

"No, oh, god, no."

She groaned, the pain still not subsiding, but her body slowly reacting to his familiar and gentle touches.

"Yeah, that's right, Buff. You know you want this. You've always wanted this. You need a little monster in your man."

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She sat in the corner of the room, sobbing uncontrollably. He'd made her come, several times, and then beaten her for doing so. When he had finally let her alone, he had gone into the bathroom to clean up, then had gotten dressed to go out to get drinks with the guys. As if it was a last minute thought, he freed her from her binds, and told her that if she even thought about leaving, he'd give her a beating she'd never forget.

He reminded her that she would also have to go to work in the morning; marks, bruises, bite marks and all. She cried to him that she wouldn't be able to cover them all, and he just beat her again.

"Get ready for tomorrow. If you don't go back in, that whore Faith will get suspicious. And we can't afford that, can we?"

"No, no," she cried, telling him anything to just get him to leave her alone.

God, she just wished someone would find out and save her. Whisk her away to some far off place where Riley couldn't find her and she didn't have to be afraid anymore. She could dream.

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"Hey, Buffy," Faith waved to her as she approached her best friends desk. "It's good to see you back at work."

Buffy smiled at her, her fingers continuing their busy movements. She was wearing a white turtleneck sweater, and her favorite comfy jeans. Nobody had to know what her long and heavy clothes were protecting. And Riley was extra careful not to mark up her face too much. Her neck looked bad enough, a large purple bruise to show where his hands had been tightly around her neck, but everything else was on her chest and below.

"It's good to be back. I'm sure my work is piled up at it is."

At first glance, Buffy was her usual perky self. But Faith knew better. She knew what kind of man Riley was; hateful, uncaring, vicious, but as far as she knew, he never laid a hand on Buffy. He would just call her bad names and make her feel worthless--not that it was any better, but as far as she knew he was just a bastard. But, now, as she looked at her best friend of over ten years, she knew that something was off. There was a sadness in her eyes she couldn't deny, like the spark was ripped right out of her and replaced with a drone, a robo-Buffy. She wanted her best friend back.

"Hey, Spikey and I are gonna go out again. Wanna join? Couple drinks, some dancing. Could be fun."

Buffy smiled at her friends excitement, knowing that there'd be no way she could turn her down. Riley would be out drinking and partying with his own friends, so it would be safe for her to go out too. She'd just say she was working late.

"Sure."

She'd just run home really quick and change. Nobody would ever know.

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The blonde danced wildly, her hands raised up above her head as the brunette danced beside her, the whole rooms attention on the two moving sensually in the middle of the room. All eyes were on them, and neither of them really seemed to care. Over and over again, they received drinks from the males in the club, getting them both more then a little tipsy. Buffy took yet another drink, laughing as closer and closer to Faith, exciting the men further.

Spike was watching from afar, nursing a beer. He knew if anyone got too fresh with either girls, he'd have to kill a few people. Sighing, he ordered another, knowing he was the designated driver for the night, he knew he had to cool it, or go slow.

"William."

A voice said from next to him. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowed, and lowered his defenses when he saw who it was.

"Well, well. If it isn't Liam. What brings you 'round town?"

He knew very well what brought the poofter around. Faith had told him to be nice because she had invited him. It turns out everyone was connected in some way. Buffy, Faith and Liam went to high school together, while the two men went to college. Well, some college together. Liam smirked, patting Spike less then lightly on the back.

"Your new girl told me to come. Said that there was someone that needed someone better. Better then what, god only knows."

Spike knew how Faith felt about Buffy's boyfriend, and he also knew that Buffy would not be pleased if she knew what Faith had been planning.

"You're here for her," he nodded towards Buffy. "The blonde bint dancing with my Faith."

It took Liam less then a minute to recognize the seductively dancing blonde.

"Buffy," he heard himself say, and Spike only smiled.

"Yeah. I see those googily eyes."

Liam glared, but couldn't hide what he really felt for the girl.

"You're in love with her."

"Unfortunately," he spoke, his eyes now on Spike, instead of the goddess on the dance floor. "We have a history. And not a good one."

"I think it's time we separate the girls now."

Spike stood from his stool, placing his beer down on the bar. Angel returned his attention to the girls, and almost growled. Both of them, now completely intoxicated, were completely covered in men, and neither of them seemed too happy about that; they just wanted to dance.

"Hey, B. B!," Faith called to the blonde who was leaning up against her and still dancing away.

"What?"

"Look, look, it is someone..." she hiccuped, and laughed as Buffy's movements stopped at the sight of him.

"Angel?"

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**Sorreh, sorreh, this one sucked, I know. Next week or maybe in just a few days, there will be another, better chapter. Please don't hate it too much. **


	4. Chapter 3

He fought through the crowd, knowing that Spike was doing it on the other side of the room to get to Faith. Somehow, Buffy had gotten herself dragged over towards the DJ, and the shortage of men was not something to worry about. She was covered in equally drunk, but much more horny men; groping, kissing, and trying to buy the girl a drink. Faith was dealing with the same thing, but Spike was throwing punches left and right, and knew nobody was going to go home without a few bruises.

The thundering music was deafening, and he couldn't hear anything above the pounding bass. He called her name, but doubted she heard him since he could barely hear it himself. Grabbing a fistful of shirts, he pulled back, two drunk men flying back. He was that much closer to her now.

As he made it over to the circle of men that were surrounding her, he just began punching, taking the route that Spike did. Some of them attempted to hit back, but, Angel just threw another, and they went down like bricks. By time he made it to Buffy herself, she was leaning up against the nearest wall they had cornered her by, holding herself and shaking.

"Buffy," he called again, rushing to her side.

It took her a moment, but she finally looked up at him. The light that was once gone from her eyes came back full force when she looked at him. She put a large, drunk smile on her face and grabbed onto him, hugging him.

"You came back."

He heard her whisper against his shoulder and he smiled, wrapping his arms around her in return.

"I promised," he reminded her before, regrettably, letting her go. "I should get you home."

He looked into her eyes again, and couldn't believe what he saw; tears. Was it something he said? She was bawling her eyes out right in front of him. She reminded him of a small child. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shirt. So desperately, even in her drunken state did she want to tell him, tell him everything, but she couldn't. He would look at her so differently; like she was disgusting. Out of everyone in the world, the one person she never wanted to look at her differently was him. He was her first love, her pure love, and she didn't want to ruin it. He could feel her getting weaker, clinging to him to hold herself up. Gently, he lifted her up into his arms, carrying her out of the crowded club. Glancing around, he saw Spike walking Faith out, and he rushed, wanting to get their opinions on the situation.

Looking down at Buffy again, he saw that she had passed out on his shoulder. He wondered what he had said to cause those hysterics.

"Spike! Faith!," he called out the them as they made their way down the street.

He ran out into the night with the sleeping blonde, catching up to his oldest friends. They turned, and Faith, in her drunken state, had a mouth that didn't stop and, unfortunately for them, was no longer connected to her brain.

"What? William, I wanna go home, get naked,"

"Yeah, luv, I know."

He patted her hand to silence her, watching as Angel finally caught up to them.

"What happened to B?," Faith asked, sounding almost childlike herself for a moment.

"She was crying. I-I don't know what happened. I told her I was going to take her home, and she just started to cry."

Faith looked at Spike, but Spike payed no mind. He was staring at the small blonde in Angel's arms. She was clinging onto his shirt, almost curled up into a ball in his embrace. There was something very wrong here.

"Take her back to your place."

"What?," Angel asked, his cheeks practically flushing.

"She obviously doesn't want to go home. Tak--"

Faith pushed Spike and stood right in front of Angel, looking down at her best friend in the process.

"Her boyfriend is mean. That's why I called. I hate him."

"We know, Faith."

Spike grumbled, pulling himself together and grabbing his girlfriends arm to keep her from falling over. Angel stared at her for a moment. Her boyfriend is mean? What did she mean? He figured that was best left for a day when everyone wasn't intoxicated. He watched as Spike led Faith away, heading towards his car.

_Bring her home._

_Don't give her back._

He looked down at the blonde in his arms, and couldn't bring himself to part from her. Especially since Faith was essentially telling him her current boyfriend wasn't a very nice guy. He had made up his mind.

Walking towards his car, which was across the street from the club, he opened the passengers seat door for her, placing her down, which earned him a whimper.

"No..."

She grasped at his shirt again, and he bent down next to the car, looking into her, now, half opened eyes.

"It's okay, Buffy. I'm taking you home."

The tears started up again, but he shushed her, stroking her hair.

"I d-don't wa-want to--"

"I know, I spoke to Faith. I'm bringing you back to my home."

Her green eyes shined with the tears that were now being held back. He was helping her? And he didn't even really know what was going on. When she seemed to calm, he smiled slightly at her and buckled her in the seat, closing the door as he stood. He had a feeling it'd be a long night.

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When she woke again, she was in someone's arms, being carried up a large flight of stairs. To say the least, she was confused. Her memory was muddled, and her head was pounding. What time was it? Where was she? She shifted a bit in the arms she was being carried in and looked up, not at all surprised to see Angel's face glancing at her from time to time. She didn't think it was the best time to start up a conversation. Plus, she wasn't exactly in clothes that she felt were particularly comfortable. She'd love to get changed.

_I should have brought clothes. Stupid! But, how did I know this would happen? _

She decided it would be no use to beat herself up over it and just relaxed in his embrace. When they finally made it to the top of the enormous steps, he pulled out his keys and unlocked the only door on the floor. He must've owned the whole thing. Buffy's eyes widened at the thought and kept quiet as he threw opened the door and walked in with her. Flicking on the lights, her jaw practically dropped at the sight. His apartment was huge, and they were just standing in the living room. She could only imagine what the other rooms looked like. He walked her over to his favorite comfy couch, which was a large, black leather recliner. He sat her down on it and she felt as if it would eat her alive, but it was comfortable as hell.

"I'm sorry it's so messy. I just finished unpacking a couple days ago."

She gave no response, but her eyes darted around the room, inspecting everything. He had knickknacks that just screamed 'Angel', and the furniture was dark, as was the whole room. It was as if he had just taken his personality and splattered it on the walls. She felt her eyes beginning to droop again, the remaining alcohol in her system making her dizzy and drowsy. But, she willed herself awake. She didn't want to sleep.

She was dressed in her infamous leather pants, a short sleeved halter top. She had explained to Faith that she wasn't going to wear a tank top because she didn't feel like getting sick again. Truth be told, she had too many bruises, and a tank top would have shown them all. She had a tasteful scarf wrapped around her neck, matching her top. It covered her handprint bruises. Her fingers scratched underneath the scarf, her skin was getting irritated from the combination of sweat and the material. She knew she would have to take it off eventually, but she couldn't while Angel was still awake. She had to wait.

"Would you like anything?," he interrupted her thoughts, startling her slightly. "Something to eat? Maybe a change of clothes?"

She nodded, refraining from saying much of anything. She was afraid that if she said something, she'd say something that would send her back to Riley. He figured she could eat, with the way she looked, and he'd have no problem in giving her some of his clothes to wear for the night.

"Alright. Give me a minute."

He walked out and left her alone, and she tried to ignore the aching feeling of fear balling up in her stomach. What if Riley found out where she was? Why she wasn't home? What if he hurt Angel? Tears threatened to spill from her eyes again, horrible thoughts running around in her mind. If Riley went after Angel, it'd be her fault and she didn't know if she could live with that. She wasn't sure her heart could handle it. She gasped for breath, her tears pouring down her face. She had to leave. She couldn't put Angel at risk. She wouldn't be able to live with herself. Getting up from the recliner, she made her way towards the door, her limbs shaky.

"Buffy?"

She heard him call to her, but she ignored him, continuing her venture to the door.

"Buffy, wait."

She turned her head, seeing him with not only clothes for her to wear, but he had made her a sandwich. Her stomach growled at the sight, especially since she had not eaten in two days. Blinking away her tears, she turned back towards the door again, only for her to be stopped by his hands on her chilled arms.

"Buffy, you're freezing. C'mon, sit back down. I've got a sandwich and some clothes for you."

"I can't stay here, Angel. I can't," she sobbed, leaning back against his hard chest.

"Why not? What's wrong?"

He sounded genuine, as if he really wanted to help her. She knew he did, but he couldn't. Nobody could.

"I-I can't trust myself."

"With what?," he couldn't help the small nervous chuckle that slipped past his lips. He didn't understand.

"You," she whispered softly, still leaning on him.

She couldn't be sure that she wouldn't slip up, start bawling out of nowhere and tell him everything that has been happening since he left all those years ago. He'd feel guilty, she'd feel dirty, and then neither of them would be happy. If anything else, she wanted him to have some happiness in his life, even if she couldn't. His eyes widened at her confession, unable to believe she had said that. He thought she was talking about her feelings, about sex, when in reality, she spoke of deeper conflicting feelings.

"Don't worry about that, Buffy. You can trust me to help you, okay? And...if you still feel as if you can't trust us together, you can leave in the morning."

It hurt him to say those words. He didn't want her to leave. He never wanted her to leave. But, he wouldn't stop her if she felt she needed to. When he felt her nod, he sighed, resting his cheek on her head. She smiled at the feel of him. It was just like when they were teenagers.

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**Okay, this one's a bit short, but from the looks of it, I'll have a new chapter for you guys every couple days. Yay! Please, enjoy. **


	5. Chapter 4

Angel had fallen asleep on the couch, his head in her lap as she nibbled on the sandwich he made her. Ham and cheese, her favorite since she could remember. She could only imagine how _he_ remembered. She chuckled and ran her fingers through his spikey hair, loving the fact that he still felt the same after all these years. She had gotten changed into his clothes; an black tee shirt and blood red silk boxers. She had forgotten that he dressed in silk, and the thought made her blush. She knew many personal things about him, and he knew almost as much about her.

But, he didn't know _that. _

She swallowed roughly and looked at the leftover sandwich that was sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She had eaten maybe two bites in total, frightened of what would happen if Riley found out she was eating again. She continued to scratch at her neck, hoping that Angel was asleep for the night, she unwrapped the scarf from around her neck, sighing when the cool air hit her sweaty skin. She could feel the soreness of her bruises, only imagining what she looked like. Looking down at Angel's sleeping form, she almost cried again. If he only knew. But, if he knew, she feared he would hate her, think she was dirty, disgusting, not his Buffy.

No. She would not cry again. She willed herself not to cry. She had shed so many tears in his presence, she wasn't sure how much more he would take from her before he threw her out.

She began to stand, gently placing Angel's head down on the softness of the couch instead of her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair once more, then brought them down to stroke over his forehead, his closed eyes, and then his lips. The lips that she loved to kiss. The lips that kissed her until she was weak in the knees, breathless, and her toes curled up. Those lips.

"I'm sorry, Angel," she whispered, her hands going to stroke his hair again. "I can never be your girl again."

Slowly, with extreme hesitance, she leaned down, softly pressing her lips to his. She missed him. She missed the way he tasted. Pulling away from him, she stared down at his peacefully resting features, not a care in the world. With a small smile, she kissed him once more, this time with slightly more courage. This would be their last kiss. After their time together tonight, she would have to leave in the morning. She would have no choice. If Riley wasn't a factor in her problem, she would never leave him. Never.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips, standing from her crouched position.

She had always loved him. She gave him once more glance before wandering his apartment, looking for his bathroom. She had to see herself. She had to see what he saw. What Riley saw. She found it, but not after being amazed by every room he had in his spacious apartment. He even had his own library, which threw Buffy more then she would have admitted.

She searched the walls of the bathroom blindly before finding the light switch, the bright lights reflecting off the tiles, temporarily blinding her. When her vision came back to her, she stood staring, completely in shock of the size. It was bigger then the bedroom she shared with Riley. Her own thought made her recoil, instantly regretting that she thought about him when she was still with Angel. She hated him so much, yet, she was stuck with him until she died. He would never let her leave. She padded her way over to the sink, where a gorgeous mirror hung above it. Glancing behind her, she saw, yet another mirror. It was a full body one. Perfect. She stood in front of it, her eyes closed at first.

What if she saw a monster? Something that deserved to be beaten and treated as if she was an object. Her hands shook as she slowly opened her eyes, finally staring into the mirror. Her haunted features taunted her, the large purple bruise around her neck screamed in contrast to her pale skin. She used to be beautiful, tanned. What happened? Her breath hitched, unable to believe that the girl in the mirror was Buffy Summers. Buffy never looked like that, ever. Buffy was alive, vivacious, and in love with someone who would never hurt her. What happened? Slowly, she stripped herself of Angel's clothing, staring at her naked body in the mirror. She couldn't believe the condition her body was in. Cuts on her thighs, bruises on her body, her bones poking through her skin. This was the new Buffy Summers.

She forced her quivering body to go over to the shower; she needed to wash away her new self. She hated it. She hated what he made her into. She stood under the harsh sprays of the shower head, crying as the hot water assaulted her body. What was she now?

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Angel woke to the feeling of missing Buffy's soft thighs underneath his head. Where'd she go? Groggily, he sat up and felt the cushion where she was sitting before. Still warm, so she hadn't left very long ago.

"Buffy?," he called out, hoping she would answer. But, he heard nothing.

Getting up, he stretched, making his way around the apartment. When he reached the bathroom, he saw the door was closed, and the light shone from underneath the door. He knocked softly, calling her name. No answer. Taking a deep breath, he walked in, seeing his clothes in a bunch on the floor, and for the first time, hearing the shower running.

"Buffy, are you okay?"

He called to her once more, and again, received no answer. Now, he was scared. He walked over to the shower, apprehensively raising his hand to pull back the curtain. Slowly, he pulled it back, and there was Buffy, curled up, knees to her chin, crying softly as the water beat down on her.

"Oh, god," he mumbled, kneeling down next to the tub and reaching out to touch her. She flinched and he pulled away from her, not wanting her to be afraid of him. "Baby, are you alright? What happened to you?"

At his soft voice she looked up at him, her tears mixing with the water beating down on her.

"Angel," she whispered, sniffling softly. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to.

He reached to turn off the water, but she squealed, and he stopped.

"Don't. I-I'm n-not clean. I'm...dirty. So dir-dirty."

If he wasn't confused before, he sure as hell was now. He could barely see her body, only her eyes and her legs, nothing more.

"Sweetheart, why don't you get out of the tub? You're shivering."

She shook her head defiantly, not wanting him to see her. He'd hate her if he saw what she looked like now. He knew he had to get her out of the tub, because she couldn't stay in there all night; she'd get sick. Standing, he walked over the the cabinet beside the sink, pulling out a big fluffy towel for her. He had to get her out somehow.

"Please, Buffy. Please?"

He begged her, showing her the towel. She looked up at him, and then at the towel. He looked so warm, so welcoming. She wanted to be in his arms. She nodded slightly, and he sighed in relief, He wanted her to trust him, no matter what was going on with her. For some reason, she felt that she couldn't. He walked back over to the tub and slowly shut the water. This time she didn't stop him. With extreme hesitance, she stood, and the shock in his eyes could not be missed. Her body was covered in ugly welts and bruises, and she had wounds where no woman should ever even be touched without love and care. She had averted her eyes, unable to watch his reaction. She wouldn't be able to deal if he blatantly showed disgust in his eyes.

"Oh. Oh, baby. Oh, god."

He draped the towel over the tubs edge, reaching his hand out to touch her. She flinched, but this time, he did not pull back. His fingers stroked over the soft skin of her cheek, and she closed her eyes at the feel of him.

"Buffy, what happened to you?"

She looked up at him for the first time, and saw that he had tears in his eyes. He was crying, for her. For her pain.

"I--I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry. Don't--Don't."

She was getting scared again. She knew it was just Angel, but she couldn't help herself. The fear was almost natural now. He shook his head to her, picking up the towel again and wrapping it around her.

"Don't say you're sorry. Never say you're sorry. It's not your fault. Shh..."

He held her in his arms, her shaking wet body now pressed against him. He laid kisses on her crown and she snuggled into his arms. He lifted her up and carried her out. He would prove to her that this was not her fault, that it would never be her fault.

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"He...he would beat me when I came home from work, not caring whether or not I was home on time. Then he'd--he'd have sex with me."

She couldn't bring herself to say she was raped. She couldn't.

"He tied m-me to the bed and-and hurt me so much," she cried, burying herself deeper into his embrace. "He told me I liked it--Angel, I swear, I didn't!"

Her large eyes looked up at him, begging for his forgiveness. If he didn't forgive her...she'd want to die. He gave her a small kiss on her forehead, holding her closer.

"I don't believe you liked it, baby. You were raped. He hurt you. You did nothing wrong."

"But--no, he said that I did. He said I-I deserved everything I g-got."

"No. Do you hear me? No."

She looked up at him once more, her eyes meeting his. Her body shook underneath his arms, and he knew his tone was too forceful for her to handle in her upset state. Lifting her more comfortably to sit on his lap, he rocked her back and forth, wanting to soothe her.

"You didn't deserve any of that, Buffy. Nobody deserves that. Baby, you need to stay away from him. You cannot go back there."

"No, no!," she cried, her body shaking with such an extreme force her teeth were even chattering. "I can't! He'd find me, and k-kill me! I can't, Angel!"

She sobbed onto his chest, his arms the only comfort she had in the world. He held her closer as she cried, letting her cry on him. He knew they'd have to talk about this again when she was sober, and he also knew that when she was sober she'd regret ever telling him. He was sure she didn't mean to tell anyone, but here she was, telling him, sobbing, hating herself. He'd help her. He swore on everything and anything that he'd help her. And not only would he help her, but he'd kill the one responsible for this. Nobody touched his girl.

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Buffy woke, her head pounding, her eyes puffy. She stretched slightly, but felt a warm chest underneath her. She moaned, and rolled over, finding Angel underneath her. She gasped softly, the nights events coming back to her slowly. She remembered going to the club with Faith and Spike, then seeing Angel, all of the men, Angel finding her...in the shower.

"Oh, god!," she gasped, covering her mouth in shock. She had told him. "Oh, my god!"

He opened his eyes slowly, seeing her shocked form laying above him.

"Buffy? Are you--"

"Oh, god!"

She couldn't believe what she had done. Not only had she told Angel what her boyfriend had done to her, but she had stayed out all night. She knew she would get the beating of her life when she got home. She scrambled off of him, off of the bed, dangerously close to crying again. Why had she done such a stupid thing? Now he knew, and she knew he'd never look at her the same way again. She stood at the edge of the bed, hyperventilating. What was she going to do? Her hands gripped the hem of the shirt she was wearing, trying to calm herself down. She was scared beyond belief.

"Angel...please tell me...please..."

She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to prevent an overflow of emotions from breaking through. She backed away from the bed, just staring at his unmoving form. He knew better then to get up. She was like a deer caught in the headlights, and she could flee at any moment.

"Everything I said was a lie. I lied to you."

She would not admit that she was ever raped by Riley. She would never admit that he ever hurt her.

"Buffy, it's alright. You did--"

"No! It was a lie!," she screeched at him, backing up further and further with each step.

"You told me he hurt you."

"He didn't! He would never hurt me! He loves me!"

She continued to lie right to his face, covering up for the pain she was experiencing. He didn't know what to do.

"What about the marks? The bruises."

"Rough sex," she replied without missing a beat. She still didn't know how she could lie so easily.

"I want to help you, baby. Please, stop defending him."

"Please, don't call me that."

She cried, her fight weakening when he reminded her of what they had, how they used to be. It hurt too much to think about it. She had to go home.

"I-I have to go. R--he'll be mad. I've gotta go."

"No, Buffy, wait!," he called after she as she ran, jumping out of the bed and rushing after her.

She was fast, but he was faster. She screamed when he caught her, turning her so she'd face him as they struggled in the hallway of his apartment. She fought against him as he tried to calm her; scratching his bare chest, punching him with balled up fists, anything she thought of doing to get him to let go. But, he allowed her to assault him, knowing it was what she needed. She wouldn't trust him until he fought for her. She needed to know that he would do so.

"Go ahead, Buffy. Hurt me like he hurt you. Let it out."

At his words she cried, her nails leaving trails of blood in their wake on his chest, his pain reflecting her own. She screamed at him, calling him all the names Riley had called her, yelling his worthlessness and her hate for him. Her breath hitched as she screamed and cried at him, her resolve weakening once she saw he wasn't moving. He didn't even grunt when she hurt him. Her pants became audible as she stood before him, almost contemplating what to do next. He wasn't sure she was done with her tirade, and he knew she had to be finished before they could make any progress. But, he waited, not saying a word as he felt his own blood cascade down his body. He didn't care. He only cared about her. With a grunt, she pushed him, and they fell together on the floor; her on top of him.

"Buffy?," he whispered, looking up at her haunted expression.

She took a deep breath and covered his mouth with one of her hands.

"Don't speak," she whispered in his ear. "Or I'll have to gag you."

His eyes widened as he figured out what she was doing. She was obviously going to give him the whole tour, and he wasn't sure either of them or mentally or emotionally stable to deal with these things. Her eyes told him she wouldn't hurt him, and her hesitance told him her words were not her own. She was repeating words said to her. She grabbed both his hands in hers and pinned them above his head. She straddled his waist and leaned down, her lips mere inches away from his. She nipped at his bottom lip and smiled an evil smile, one that he was sure she'd seen many times. Her head leaned down, and came to rest in the crook of his neck. What was she doing? But, before he got a chance to ask, he got her blunt teeth embedded in his flesh, his body jerking at the sudden hurt. She looked at him again, almost glaring.

"Are you going to make me fucking gag you?"

He sighed and shook his head, catching his breath. He hadn't realized that he had yelled out her name, but of course, she hadn't missed it.

"I'm really sick of you, Buffy. Never listening to me."

He watched her as she continued to speak, indirectly telling him how her boyfriend spoke to her. Before he knew what was happening, he felt her little fists against his body again. He knew she would not leave bruises on him, she wasn't that strong, and she seemed to not be exactly wanting to hurt him. She looked down at him again, picturing herself covered in bruises, laying there crying. She took a deep breath, the hot tears building up in her eyes again.

"Crying? You're crying? I'll give you something to cry about."

But, this time, she didn't move. She was just sitting above him, still holding him down. She was staring into his eyes, and he stared back. He wanted to get inside her head, take all the pain away and help her become the Buffy she used to be, but this guy, whoever he was, damaged her so badly that it would take a long time before she would ever trust, love, or be the person she used to be.

"Buffy," he whispered softly. "What happens next?"

She took a shuddering breath, grasping his hands tighter, as if they would keep her anchored, give her strength.

"I c-can't. Please, Angel..."

"What happens?"

It was that moment that Angel knew. He knew what he had to do.

"Baby, show me what happens."

"No! I can't! I c-can't hurt you like that."

She finally let go and cried, curling up on top of him, oblivious to the blood between their bodies. He wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry. She needed to after the emotional battle he just made her go through. He shushed her as she cried, and she shook in his arms. She couldn't believe how much she could cry in a twenty-four hour time frame.

"Angel," she cried, bringing herself closer to him. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Don't be. I told you to do it. It's alright."

He ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her. He knew this was just another step in their progress. He wouldn't be letting her leave at all. She'd have to take off from work and he'd buy her clothes if that's what she wanted, but he wouldn't let her leave without him with her. The asshole that hurt her would pay.

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"I didn't want to get you involved, that's why I said I lied."

"Why, Buffy? You know I would've helped you if you had--"

"I know."

She paused, gathering her thoughts.

"He's a sadistic bastard. I...I didn't want him to hurt you too."

She was done with crying, Angel showed her the light at the end of the tunnel, she didn't have any reason to cry anymore.

"Also...I didn't want you to..."

She paused again, this time, embarrassed to say the words she wanted to. He scooted closer to her, taking one of her hands in his. He was always so soothing, like a big teddy bear that was made just for her comfort. She knew he was waiting patiently for her to continue, not rushing her in the slightest.

"...hate me."

His heart broke at her confession. She was still the little girl he fell in love with, her childlike sincerity showing through more then anything else. He picked her up and held her, showing her how much he loved her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling his scent lazily as she rested her head against his neck. It was just like the way they used to be.

"Does this mean you still love me?"

Her voice was small when she asked him, and he didn't hesitate one bit in answering of.

"I never stopped."

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**I feel that this chapter started well, began to fail, started up good again, and then poofed. Please, tell me what you guys think, and I promise, the next chapter will be better. **


	6. Chapter 5

She paced nervously as he slept, her constant nightmares prevented her from sleeping. Wringing her hands nervously, she bit her lip to silence her idiotic thoughts. It was eight in the morning, and she hadn't slept all night. He held her, rocked her, even watched a movie with her, but after many failed attempts of helping her sleep, he fell into unconsciousness himself. She had laid with him, finding his presence a comfort, even touching him in attempts to ground herself. Her fingers had fluttered over his arms, his strong hands, his marbled chest, lingering there for a while, before drifting up to caress his face. She always loved to touch him, and he had always allowed her to. She knew that he loved it, even if he wouldn't admit it.

She looked over at his sleeping form one more, watching as he tossed and turned. It was like he knew she wasn't there with him. Silently, she crawled back into the bed, sliding herself between his arms and curling up against his side. Instinctively, he tightened his arms around her tiny frame and fell into a deeper, more peaceful sleep. She smiled, rubbing the tip of her nose lightly against his neck before kissing the soft skin there. She couldn't help herself. He was so familiar and it felt so right. She knew it was wrong, and she berated herself quietly. Already she was getting him into trouble by staying with him, the last thing he needed was a girl like her falling in love with him again. Shying away from her thoughts, she rested her head against him, not caring about Riley. With Angel, she was safe.

He held her tighter and she winced, slightly crying out in pain. Her bruises hadn't fully healed, and now she was just sore. She hadn't allowed him to see the extreme extent of her wounds, so he really didn't know he was hurting her. Shivering, she curled herself tighter in his embrace, almost wishing he'd crush her to death. The pain in her heart, in her mind, and on her body always got in the way. Riley was always ruining everything. Sighing softly against his skin, she looked up at him, smiling slightly.

"Angel," she knew he would be sleeping, so she spoke her mind freely. "Do you remember...the first time we made love?," a soft blush crept across her cheeks. "I was seventeen and you were twenty. We were in your old apartment celebrating my birthday, and I knew I was ready. I was ready for you in every way. I remember you had promised me you wouldn't hurt me. I had never felt so good in my life. When...when you first entered me, you stopped, knowing it would hurt, no matter what you did. I told you it was okay, and you gave me one fast thrust, to get it over and done with. I remember that I cried, but you kissed me and didn't move until my tears stopped. You told me that I looked at you with such love and trust that you wanted to cry, and it just made me love you more," she held him closer to her, ignoring the searing pain in her body.

"Angel," she groaned, holding back her tears of, not only pain, but of pure love for him. "Angel, why can't we be like we used to? Why couldn't we be married with kids and a dog like we always dreamed? What did I do wrong?"

She rubbed her face against the cotton of his shirt, trying to forget she was in any kind of pain.

"Why didn't you love me enough to stay?"

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He stroked her hair as she slept, finally her mind was allowing her to rest. She sighed against him, her small hand gripping his shirt tighter. He had awoken before to find Buffy half on top of him, and half off the bed. He could only imagine how she managed that. He didn't want to move her too much, so he just slid her ever so slightly that she was no longer hanging off the edge of the bed, but was still lounging on him. He told himself it was so he didn't wake her, but he knew it was just because he loved having her close. He didn't know when she had fallen asleep, but he did know that he hadn't fallen asleep with her. He glanced over at the clock and checked the time; two in the afternoon. He didn't want to wake her, but he knew they would have to eat eventually, and he was the only one who really liked to cook.

He caressed the softness of her cheek softly, smiling when she whispered his name as she slept. He looked at her peacefully sleeping face and couldn't help but frown. He knew behind those eyes, inside that heart was a deep pain that he just couldn't soothe. He couldn't help her because the damage was too deep, the wound was too fresh, and the threat was still out there. He knew whoever had given her the wounds, given her the fear still had a hold on her, telling her to be afraid, to not trust anyone--but she trusted him, and since she could do that, he was that much closer to helping her.

He looked away from her, knowing that if he was to think up a plan as to how to get her out of this, he couldn't be staring at her. If he stared at her, he would distract himself, and although it would be pleasant, it wouldn't help. He sighed helplessly, unknowing, really what to do. He knew that he would have to keep helping her with flinching away from physical touches. That was essentially easy. He asked her, "Do you know what his touch feels like?" and she nodded affirmatively. He told her to close her eyes, and he touched her, just her arms, and she flinched only slightly, her skin rippling with goosebumps and the tingle of a familiar touch.

_"Do I feel like him?," he had whispered. _

_"No," she moaned back, unable to hold in her feelings. "You feel like home." _

He smiled at her confession. She had been so embarrassed after she confessed, that she couldn't look at him for an hour before he asked her what was wrong. She admitted that she shouldn't have said that, and it was wrong, but he told her that he wanted to know what she was feeling, whether she thought it was wrong or not. She smiled and hugged him, and he knew that they were getting somewhere.

"You're brooding, mister."

He looked down at Buffy, who was now waking up. He smiled at her and then shook his head at her words. He promised her no brooding no matter what, and obviously she had caught him at one of his more untruthful moments.

"Sorry. I tried."

She smiled sleepily and stretched against him, her limbs going out in each direction. He laughed at her, and she smacked his arm lightly. They had fallen into a comfortable silence after that. He was laying with her, his one arm around her waist, lounging on her hip, and the other was playing with a random piece of her hair. She had her head against his chest, her one hand had somehow drifted up his shirt, just laying on his stomach and the other was caressing his hand that was on her. From a onlookers point of view, they looked like a normal, happy couple. But, neither of them were, or could be fully happy, and the things they were going through, yes, were normal, but sure as hell shouldn't have been. She sighed, breaking the silence between them and looked up at him.

"What were you thinking?"

He knew when she meant; the brood fest. He sighed and looked down at her, her innocence shining through. He knew that he couldn't get away with this one. Although she was staring up at him with large innocent eyes, it didn't mean that if he lied to her, she wouldn't deprive him of something nice, like her company. Or she might just sleep on the couch. His heart quickened at the thought, unable to deal with the fact that Buffy would deprive him of herself. He knew she would, too.

"I was just thinking," at her look, he continued on. "A-about things. More or less, you. But, just things."

He could feel her closing in on herself, cutting him off. Her fingers stopped playing with his, and her hand began to slowly slide out from underneath his shirt. No, he had to get her back.

"I-I can leave now, Angel. You don't have to l-let me stay..."

"No, Buffy, that's not what I meant. I don't want you to leave."

She looked up at him, surprised. Hadn't he grown tired of her yet? Their eyes met, and she felt like she was drowning in his dark, mysterious pools. What was he thinking? How did he feel about her? He stared at her, and he couldn't help but want to kiss her. He had dreams of kissing her, making love to her, but he would never act on his feelings. She was hurt and the last thing she needed was another man all over her. But he couldn't stop himself when he felt himself moving closer to her. She knew it was going to happen. It was finally going to happen. She watched as he came closer, but then he stopped, and she knew she'd have to initiate the kiss if she wanted one. She closed her eyes and pressed her nervous lips to his, all thought flying out the window when she tasted him again. He felt her lips tremble against his own, and he knew that she was putting all of her newfound trust into this one kiss. He wasn't going to deny his own feelings, He brought his hand up, cupping her face and bringing her closer. She let out a tiny sound of pleasure when she felt his lips moving against hers, knowing at that moment she had made the right choice. She ran her fingers through the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck, wanting him to know she was okay.

"Buffy," he pulled away, leaving her breathless. He looked deep into her eyes, their lips still a hairsbreadth away from each other. "Maybe we should slow down. I mean-"

"Don't," she whispered. "Just kiss me."

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They didn't. Thank god, they didn't. Angel was ready to kick himself as he stood in front of the stove, preparing his and Buffy's dinner. They had kissed until they were breathless, but Angel refused to let it go farther then that. She wasn't in the mental condition to make love, and it would be like taking advantage of her. He couldn't. So, they had kissed...a lot. He knew he needed a cold shower, an extremely cold shower, but he wanted to show that he had control around her. It had been years since they were together, and well, things had changed. His feelings were one thing that had not, but the situation had.

He sighed, stirring the pot of stew he was making. What was he thinking kissing her like that? But, if he remembered correctly, it was her who initiated the kiss. He smiled when he remembered how hesitant she had been, just like when they were together all those years ago. The ringing of the doorbell woke him from his reverie, and also reminded him that Buffy was in the shower--safe. Placing the spoon down on the table next to the stove, he made his way to the front door, looking through the peephole.

_Oh, no. _

He groaned and took a deep breath. He didn't want to open the door, but he knew he had no choice. Turning the knob, he pulled open the door, and the person behind it threw their arms around his neck, and crushed his lips to theirs in a painful kiss.

_Nothing like Buffy's beautiful, full, soft lips. _

The intruder pushed up against him, leading him towards the couches. The back of his knees met with the couch and he lost his balance, falling onto the couch with the woman on top of him.

"Lover," she purred, her fingers tracing over his lips as her hips undulated against his. "It's been too long."

He grabbed her hands as she leaned in to kiss him again, stopping her movements.

"No. What are you doing here?"

She smiled, letting him hold onto her.

"Playing coy are we?"

She grabbed his hands in a quick motion and pinned him to the couch.

_Wow, the second time this week. _

"I remember you like to be dominated, lover. I can play that game."

"Darla," he tried to speak before her lips were against his again.

Buffy made her way to the kitchen, drying her hair with the towel in her hand. She smiled seeing the pot of stew simmering on the stove, and walked over to taste it. She had always loved his cooking--so much better then hers. Licking her lips, she placed the towel down on the table, and grabbed the spoon, dipping it in the pot and tasting it. She sighed happily as the warm liquid slid down her throat; it was good. Smiling, she placed the spoon back down and picked up her towel again. Where was Angel? She laughed to herself, shaking her head. He was probably lounging on the couch, watching football or something manly like that. She almost skipped into the living room where she found Angel, yes on the couch, but not with the t.v . on, but with another blonde on his lap.

Her heart broke as she watched the scene unfold in front of her; Angel panting as the woman held him down, stroking him through his pants. He didn't seem to be exactly enjoying himself, but he wasn't hating it either. He threw his head back and cried out her name, which surprised her and obviously angered the woman.

"That cheerleader? Again?," she growled at him, squeezing his manhood painfully in her hand.

Did she know this woman? She continued to stare, then it registered; Darla, her rival in school.

"Angel?," she squeaked, her cheeks stained with tears. He was cheating on Darla? With her? Oh, god.

"Buffy?," he looked from Darla, to her, watching as Buffy made her way to the door, throwing it open and running out.

Darla smiled, kissing him again.

"Let her go, lover. You have me now."

"Buffy!"

He cried as he threw Darla off of him, stumbling slightly before rushing after her. He ran down the stairs, and into the street, but the tiny blonde dressed in his clothes and no shoes was nowhere in sight.

"Goddamn it!"

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She walked the darkening streets of Los Angeles, shivering from the overload of multiple emotions. How could she be so stupid? What made her think Angel was in love with her? Oh, maybe it was the make out session in his bed, or the part where he actually told her he loved her! She continued to sob, wishing she could stop. She hated that he was making her feel like this, and it definitely wasn't the first time this happened either. He had left her and made her feel exactly the same way, but this was ten times worse in some ways. She found him with someone else; was she really just another number to him? She heard tires squeal next to her and she looked, seeing a car that looked exactly like Riley's pull up next to her walking form.

_Oh, no..._

She stopped and watched as her boyfriend got out of the car, angry as all hell. She almost started hyperventilating on the spot.

"Where the fuck have you been?," he yelled at her, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her. "I've been looking for you for days!"

She cried, her body shaking in fear.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed to him, not knowing what else he wanted to her say. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, leading her to the car and letting her get in. He'd deal with her when they got home.

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**Sorry for the delay. Next chapter will take a while, but will be up in a few weeks/days. **


	7. Chapter 6

She didn't know what happened. The last thing she remembered was Riley dragging her into the house and then into the nearest room, which was the kitchen. The next thing she knew, he was on the ground bleeding from a nasty wound in the back of his head. She stood in front of the stove, visibly shaking. What had she done? She gasped softly as she tried to catch her breath. She had began hyperventilating and didn't even realize it. What was going on with her? She heard sirens outside and peaked out the window over the sink; cops. Had she been screaming? Did they fight? She couldn't remember. All she knew was she was standing in front of a dying body, obviously guilty. What had she done?

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Faith had called him before he had a chance to call her. He had been out searching for Buffy all night, and when he picked up his cell phone while he was driving around the darkened streets of Los Angeles, he only hoped it was his Buffy. But, it wasn't. It was Faith. She said Buffy was in the hospital, and so was Riley. He asked her which one and he turned his car around and drove there as quickly as he could.

His mind was in a haze as he ran through the corridors of the hospital, nurses screaming at him to stop. He couldn't. He had to find Buffy. Finally, he found Faith, who was standing outside a hospital room with Spike. They both looked as if they hadn't slept in days.

"What happened?," he panted, out of breath.

"Buffy stabbed Riley in the head. They can't figure out how she did it, but she did. Self defense of course. The police saw her body and had her rushed to the hospital. He had tried raping her, and that's why she stabbed him."

If Faith only knew, he thought to himself, how many times that bastard put his hands on her, touched her with rough hands where only she was meant to be touched lovingly. He held back the comment and let her continue.

"They say she's in pretty bad shape. She's been walking around with bruises, cuts and welts...some of her wounds are probably infected. They said...from her internal wounds, she might not be able to have children."

His heart dropped. She didn't deserve this. If he could take all this pain and heartbreak from her he would. In a heartbeat all of her pain would be his.

"She's been crying since she found out. She doesn't want to see either of us. Maybe you should try."

She gestured to the door, noting how silent he was. His face was void of any emotion or any indication that he had even heard a word she said. She had a feeling that the information he now had was effecting him more then he wanted either of them to know. He walked past her and opened the door to Buffy's room, closing it silently behind himself. Spike walked up to Faith, placing his hand on her shoulder. She turned around and wrapped her arms around him, needing his support as her best friend sat in some hospital room, broken and bruised inside and out.

"He loves her. He'll do what he can."

He assured her softly, and she nodded into his shirt.

Angel silently made his way toward her bed, watching as her curled up form shook and shivered with each sob she released. He couldn't stand to see her like this. Everything was broken. She was broken. Her head lifted up to look at him and she cried harder, extending her arms to him. She needed for him to hold her. She needed his comfort. With little or no hesitance at all, he was on the bed with her, and she was in his arms, safe at last. She cried on him, and all he could do was be there for her. Be the love and comfort she needed and deserved.

"I'm sorry," she cried onto him, clutching at his arms.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. She was sorry? No, he couldn't let her hurt herself this way. None of this was her fault. He was about to speak when she cut him off.

"Our dream can never come true now."

He stroked her hair, kissing her forehead.

"We don't need kids and a dog to have our dream come true, Buffy."

She looked up at him, but he silenced her with a light kiss. He shook his head and held her closer.

"Just as long as we're together, that's all we need."

"Don't you want kids?," her small voice broke the silence.

"Only if you are their mother. Other then that, no. All I need is you, love. You and only you."

She cried, burying her face in his jacket.

"I'm sorry I can't make you a daddy."

A stray tear fell into her hair, Angel's pain reflecting hers. Her wounds were too deep now. He'd be lucky if he ever got Buffy back.

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**I'm sorry this is so short, but life has been extremely hectic, and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting too long. I hope you all enjoy it, and thank you all for your reviews! I love reading them. They keep me going. Again, sorry for the shortness. The next chapter will be much longer and make up for this. **


	8. Chapter 7

Riley died in the hospital while he was in surgery. They thought he would recover, but his wound was too deep and they couldn't stop the bleeding. Buffy was charged with murder, but once the abuse was brought to light in the court, the charges were dropped in the verdict of self defense. Prosecutors from Wolfram and Hart were convinced Buffy was guilty, and that her claims of abuse were fake, thought up by the defense for sympathy from the jury, and tried their best to prove it. But, the defense was more convincing, and Buffy went free.

Outside of the courtroom, the Wolfram and Hart lawyer introduced herself personally, with malice in her voice. She did not want to be friends.

"Expect a call from us."

Buffy had cowered next to Angel when she was out of sight, not knowing exactly what the woman meant by that. Did she have some personal stake in whether or not Buffy got what 'she deserved'? Did she know Riley and wanted to get back at her for killing him? It wasn't on purpose...

"I didn't mean to kill him," she admitted tearfully to him.

He stroked her back, trying to soothe her, showing his support.

"I know, but he deserved it."

They both remembered that day well, both of them fearing that even though Riley had died, that the problems attached to his name would never die. Like he was haunting them, in more ways then one.

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"Sweetheart, dinners done. Do you want to come inside?"

Angel spoke to Buffy's back, watching her sit outside on the wet grass, the rain pouring down on her without care. She looked back at him and tried to smile. She'd been trying for months, but she found it to be no use. She couldn't get her smiles to reach her eyes anymore. Her eyes were never emerald. Blue-ish gray would be a better description. He really didn't expect anything less after everything that had happened. She scooted herself more to the left so she could see him better and held her hand out to him.

"Sit with me. It feels good."

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. She was really spiraling downward, and fast. He was lucky she was talking and at least attempting to smile at him now. He looked back into the apartment, then at the girl in front of him, her tiny form shuddering from the cold she would never admit she felt.

"You better come inside, Buffy. You'll catch your death out here."

She lowered her hand and the fake smile faded. She turned back around again, the wet grass sloshing underneath her body. She didn't care about the rain or the cold. It washed everything away and it was a different texture on her skin. She welcomed it. She plucked a few blades of grass from the ground and played with them silently. She understood that Angel wanted to stay away from her. Everyone did. Faith couldn't look at her, Spike all but fired her, even though nowadays she couldn't give a flying fuck about her job, and more then once she had caught Darla at the door, trying to get in. She couldn't stand that bitch, but she never said anything as Angel catered to her, usually just ushering her right back out the front door. And although they had moved, she still somehow got their new address. Angel felt Buffy needed more open spaces and green grasses. Buffy felt she just needed Angel.

Beside her he sat, the cold rain soaking through his clothes within moments. As if she was a frightened animal, she slid over to him warily, nuzzling against his arm first before he wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her close. She situated herself in his lap, then leaned back against his chest, looking up at the sky. He had sat there in silence with her, for who knows how long, just allowing her to have him and her rain.

"Angel?," she called to him quietly, her voice like a soft hum underneath the drumming of the rain.

"Hmm?"

He answered her mindlessly, really just concentrating on her and not her words. He was playing with a wet strand of her blonde hair, admiring the way it shined even in the darkness of the cloudy afternoon.

"I'm broken...aren't I?"

He stopped his caresses to her hair and sighed, bringing his arms around her tighter. How could he possibly tell her something like that? He shook his head against her, not believing for one moment that he couldn't fix her, put the pieces back together and help her be herself once again.

"I don't think so. I think you may have a few bruises over specific parts of your body," as if it was her first reaction, she clamped her legs tightly together and curled up into a little ball on top of him, covering the parts where she thought she was bruised to the world. He shook his head, taking her hand in his and placing it over her heart. "Here. And in your mind. And in your soul. But if you trust me, I can help you. I can help your bruises fade and then, no more broken Buffy. Only beautiful Buffy - the one that only I can see now. Okay? Not broken, just hurt."

She looked up at him, then down at his hand on her chest. She lifted his hand, bringing it to her face. She kissed him, letting him caress her face softly. She smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time.

"You hungry, love?"

She looked up at him again, a small smile on her face and she nodded.

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The doorbell rang while Angel was watching Buffy play his Xbox. Even though he was a grown man, he did enjoy his video games, and it turned out that she wasn't too bad of a player.

"I like the red one, Angel. He's got that...cool hammer thing--Oh! Oh! I smashed that guys face in, didja see it?" she cheered as he made his way out of the bedroom and towards the door. She was completely ignoring his actions and only concentrating on the large t.v. she was sitting in front of.

He opened the door, already knowing who was one the other side. He sighed when he was right, and behind the door revealed Darla, scantily dressed and complete with her bedroom eyes.

"Hello, lover," she purred, checking the hallway behind him. "Got rid of that pesky cheerleader, I see."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but he didn't stop the frustrated sigh that escaped his lips.

"Darla. Darla, what will it take to get you out of my life? When will you realize that I want nothing to do with you? By the way, how in hell did you even get our new address? I've really been meaning to ask you."

He didn't even try to hide the anger and frustration he felt every time he opened the door and saw her standing there. It drove him crazy and he knew it upset Buffy. She would never tell him, but every time Darla made an appearance, she would clam up for the rest of the night, and in bed, she wouldn't cuddle with him. She'd just roll over and sleep. Although, he knew nine out of ten times, she cried herself to sleep, and when she finally succumbed to exhaustion, he'd hold her in his arms and promise her it would be alright. He tried to keep that promise, but his ex was making things extremely difficult.

"Well, every man likes a little persuasion, if you know what I mean," she smiled, running her hand up his arm.

He knew exactly what she meant. He shrugged off her hand, not wanting her to touch him. He didn't love her, and at the moment, he couldn't care less whether she lived or died. All he cared about was Buffy and that was proving to be difficult with Darla popping up all the time.

"Listen. I don't care what you feel for me, I don't care about you at all. If you don't leave, I'm going to end up calling the police."

She smiled at him, pushing her way into the house. It was obvious she didn't believe him for one second. She took a look at the hallway they were standing in, pictures lined on the walls, mostly of both of their families; Buffy's mom and dad, Angel's mom, dad, and little sister Kathy, and then back at him.

"I think when I move in, we'll have to replace these horrendous pictures," she gestured to Buffy's family. "And replace them with something...much more soothing to the eye."

Buffy continued to rapidly press buttons on the controller, smashing enemies and pulling combos left and right. She cheered happily, bouncing up and down on the bed as she leveled up her character.

"Angel! I did it!"

She giggled happily, the first sign of real life from her in a while. But, he had known video games were therapeutic, because in games you got to beat people up and get rewarded for it. That never happened in real life. Suddenly, her game paused itself, and her controller went off.

"Hey," she whined, looking down at the object in her hand. "Low batteries?," she wondered, hopping off the bed and rummaging through the drawers of Angel's dresser. "Angel?," she called. "Where are the batteries?"

She looked behind her, where Angel had been sitting on the bed watching her before, to see he was no longer there. Maybe he went to the bathroom, or went to get something to drink. She padded towards the bedroom door when she heard voices. One was undoubtably Angel, and the other...was female. She sneaked closer towards the hallway where she knew he was standing by the door. Who was he talking to? She prayed to god it wasn't Darla, but she knew that it was. She bit her lip softly as she listened to the voices, trying to hear their conversation.

_"I don't care about what you feel for me, I don't care about you at all." _

She smiled to herself, happy tears flooding her eyes. He was standing up for her. For their love. Wait. Were they in love? Could she really say that they were? She wrapped her arms around herself, the controller for the game still clutched in her hand. She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, wondering whether or not Angel loved her that she missed half of Darla's response, but her voice sounded closer and Buffy backed up a bit.

_"...Much more soothing to the eye." _

Her brow furrowed as the close footsteps began to move away, and she inched closer to the hallway again.

_"You're not going to live here. You're never going to live here. I live here with Buffy, and that will never change. Get it through your damn head." _

Even though it was only a slight curse, Buffy had never heard Angel say such a word. He never cursed, or at least, he never cursed when he was around her, even when he was mad. He had always refrained from cursing or fighting in front of her, she assumed it was to show his gentlemen-like respect for her, and to protect her. She leaned her head against the wall as she heard the footsteps again, heading away from her still.

Darla moved in to kiss him, and he pushed her away. In a rage, she smacked him, her nails scratching down his face, causing him to bleed. Buffy covered her mouth as she heard the smack. She didn't know whether to scream or cry. Soon after, she heard the door slam, and quickened footsteps approaching her. She didn't have enough time to get back to the bedroom before Angel saw her, calling her name softly.

"Buffy? Are you alright?"

Oh god. Had she known Darla was here? Was she angry? Upset?

She looked up at him and nodded, looking down at the controller in her hand and removing her other, more shaky hand from her mouth.

"I'm okay. I-I was looking for you. I need..."

She started to hand him the controller when she noticed his face. Blood was streaming down the left side of his head, the gash leading down all the way almost to his chin.

"You're hurt," she whispered softly, reaching her hand up to touch the wounds that marred his beautiful face.

He smiled at her concern, but hissed softly when she touched him. She flinched slightly, almost feeling the wound herself, but found herself unable to pull away from him.

"Come on," she said, tugging on his hand after finally stopping the soft touches to his face. "I'll fix you up."

She was silent about what she had heard, and was in no rush to bring up Darla or anything pertaining to Darla. She held his hand tightly in hers, leading him to the bathroom where she sat him down on the toilet seat and opened the cabinet below the sink, pulling out the first aid kit. She placed the controller she had been carrying down on the edge of the sink, and began to tend to his face.

"Wanna tell me what happened?," she asked him softly, using tissue paper to clean the excess blood from around the wound before taking out a antibacterial wipe.

He sighed, looking down at his hands. She lifted his chin gently, bending towards him and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. The trust in her eyes overwhelmed him.

"You can tell me anything. I won't be mad."

She continued to clean him up and he watched her silently, shrinking away from her slightly as she cleaned the deep scratches.

"Darla."

She sighed, her hands placing the gauze on his wounded face. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in between his legs and laying his head on her stomach. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to fix their problems, and they had just so many of them.

"I don't want to lose you, Buffy," she heard his muffled voice speak against her stomach. She sniffled softly, trying to hold in her emotions.

"You won't, Angel. Not ever. I promise," she whispered to him. "I'll stay here as long as you want me," she added softly, knowing he'd catch her insecurities right away.

"How's forever? Does forever work for you?"

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Buffy ran towards the front door, dressed in one of Angel's large shirts and his boxers, rushing to answer the door. She opened it cautiously, peeking out. She saw the delivery man. He had several packages.

"Liam Sheehan?"

She nodded and opened the door fully, taking the boxes from his hands. She caught him eyeing her legs and she shied away, quickly closing the door and turning back down the hallway, rushing towards the bedroom. She climbed up onto the huge bed, boxes in hand as she sat cross legged, nudging Angel slightly, who was still asleep.

"Did you buy something, Angel?"

"Mmph."

She chuckled softly, opening the first box. Inside was a video game he had obviously bought for her to play. She squealed happily, holding the game close to her chest. She had been begging him for this game for the longest time, or what felt like the longest time, and he had gotten it for her. Placing the box and game aside, she reached for the next, which held no return address. Shrugging it off, she opened it, inside lay a lone video tape. Eyeing it carefully, she picked it up, getting off the bed and bringing it over to the t.v. She placed it inside the VCR, and at first all that was on the t.v. was static, but then images started to flood the screen. Loud pants and moans blasted through the speakers of the 48 inch television set, startling Angel awake.

He sat up sleepily, looking around until he saw the t.v, images of him and Darla in bed. He looked around the room; Buffy was no where to be found. He knew this was not good.

"Buffy?," he called, getting out of bed cautiously.

He made his way out into the hallway, checking each room until he found her. He had looked in every room except for the bathroom. The bathroom and Buffy did not mix, and he knew this very well. Knocking on the door, he called to her, making sure he was heard.

"Go away," came the hesitant reply, her soft voice almost rough on his ears. Just hearing her say those words to him hurt more then anything else.

"I'm coming in, Buffy. I don't care."

He opened the door and found her sitting on the toilet seat, curled up with her legs against her chest. She was shaking like a leaf. He sighed softly, the horrible thoughts running through his mind were silenced by the sight of her, unharmed. At least, unharmed on the outside. He approached her, laying a hand on her back; she jumped.

"Buffy, please talk to me."

She glanced up at him, tears in her mossy eyes.

"You fucked her," he flinched at her words, unable to look at her as she spoke. "You fucked her, kept a reminder. Did...was it good? Was she better then me?"

"Buffy, don't do this."

She ignored him, resting her head on her knees.

"Just leave me alone."

He sighed, walking away from her. When he reached the door, he turned back towards her, not expecting her to care, but feeling as if he needed to say it anyway.

"She's nothing compared to you. You're the only one for me."

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Angel lay in bed that night, unable to sleep from the loss of Buffy. She wouldn't eat, and now she wouldn't sleep. If he could, he would kill Darla. Now, she was preying on Buffy's insecurities. She didn't know, and probably didn't care, about what they had been through the past eight months; Buffy's nightmares, the healing on the outside, the scars on the inside, and now, Darla was stirring the pot again, making everything bad come to light. He was in a bad place when he was with Darla. He didn't want a reminder. He didn't know she had recorded them fucking. He rolled over for the tenth time that night, hugging a pillow to his chest. If he pretended it was Buffy, maybe he could go to sleep.

He found himself half asleep on his back sometime during the night, the pillow long gone with his movements. The door for the bedroom opened slightly, just a crack of light from the hall slipping in. He closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep. Buffy snuck in quietly, closing the door behind her. She tiptoed over to the bed and crawled in beside him. She curled up at his side, breathing in his scent and thanking god that he was asleep. She couldn't face him at the moment, for not only video taping himself with Darla, but because of how foolish she had acted. Seeing Darla with him scared her. What if reminding him of what they had made him want her back? What if he decided that Darla had bigger breasts then her, or had a better figure and left her for the old skank. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to go to sleep. Too much thinking. Need sleep.

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**Hehe, new problems and obstacles for our favorite couple! Now, where is my dramatic music?**


	9. Chapter 8

She sat on the edge of the bed, sitting with her legs crossed, her eyes locked onto the large television screen directly in front of her. She wanted all the achievement this game had to offer, and she wouldn't rest until she got every last one of them. Her fingers rapidly pressed buttons, her tongue peeked out from between her pursed lips, tense with concentration. She leaned closer to the t.v, as if it would help her in sniping one of the enemies she targeted. No form of emotion passed over her features as a head exploded, covering the screen with blood and brains for a few seconds before continuing on with the battle.

"Fucking bastard," she murmured, sniping yet another enemy's head clear off.

She heard a muffled groan from behind her and paused the game, turning to face the man who she could only love and admire at night, when he slept, and while simultaneously hating herself that she was allowing fear and insecurity to control her feelings for him. He rolled over, one eye opening and peering at the small blonde at the edge of the bed. She sat there innocently, the controller by her side, the large t.v. on blasting. Groggily, he sat up against the headboard, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Hey," he spoke softly to her, knowing she was still upset. "Did you sleep?"

"Yup," her voice was almost...cheery. "I woke up early so I could get a head start on the next quest."

He looked from her to the television and nodded. He knew she really loved the new game he got for her, and when it came to Buffy, any money he spent was well worth it. But, he also noticed that she had been spending most of her time playing this game. He knew he shouldn't judge her, especially with everything he put her through, but he couldn't help but worry over how unhealthy it was.

"Do you want to go to the park? Maybe get a nice lunch? The news last night said it would be nice today."

She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head, returning her attention to the television. He sighed and watched as she un-paused her game, and then surprisingly, shut it off.

"I have a better way to spend our afternoon."

He watched as she crawled up to him, settling herself on his lap. She ground her hips hard into his and he groaned, placing his hands on her waist.

"Buffy. Stop. We shouldn't--"

"Shh," she whispered, placing a finger delicately on his lips. "Don't worry so much."

He knew very well that this was wrong. He knew that he shouldn't have been allowing her to be kissing his neck, trailing her hands down his body, slipping inside his boxers...

"Stop, Buffy," he whispered huskily, grabbing her wrist before she could grab him.

Her eyes met his, clouded over with lust and something else. Something he couldn't quite identify. She knew he wanted this. She knew he wanted her mouth around his length, suckling him lovingly, touching him softly, then sheathing him in her tight heat. She slid her hand from his weak grip and took his hands in hers, placing them on her ass. She was convinced she could do this, that she would do this. And his conscience would not stop her. She then took his face in her hands, leading his lips to hers. She pressed her tongue against his lips, and he opened his mouth obediently, unable to control himself any longer. She was on top of him, kissing him, and he was kneading the flesh of her rear. What could go wrong?

She could feel his ever growing erection between her legs, pushing against the fabric of her pajama pants and she moaned into his mouth. Sensually, she slipped her tongue into his mouth, in and out teasingly. He grabbed her firmly, pulling her to rub against his straining erection. Moaning alongside him, she rested her forehead against his, letting him control her body. She squeezed her thighs together, holding him tightly against her sex, and his grip on her loosened, his hands sliding down to rest on her thighs. He opened his eyes and stared up at her, her green eyes staring right back at him.

Flipping them over, he kissed her softly, letting her know that this was no longer for him, for them. It was just for her. When he pulled away from her she stared up at him expectantly, wondering what the hell he was doing.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her neck softly.

She sighed, running her finger through his hair and turning her head to give him better access. His lips felt so good against her skin, she wished he would never stop.

"I love you so much it hurts, Buffy."

He felt her legs spread for him, and he took that as a good sign. He intended on showing her just how much he loved her.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-

She curled up next to him, completely sated. Her bottoms and panties were long gone and her tank top was bunched up to her breasts, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. He held her close, their problems long forgotten. She sighed, looking up at his content face.

"Angel?," she whimpered, burrowing herself deeper in his embrace.

"Hm?"

"Didn't you want to come?"

He looked down at her, stroking some hair from out of her face. She looked so innocent, and the hesitance in her question just added to that image.

"Yes, but sweetheart, I promise you, when the time is right you and I will be coming together, multiple times. Right now, it's about you. I want you to know that I love you, and only you. And I want you to be comfortable with both our bodies being together again before we just jump right into making love."

She laid with him quietly, thinking over all he said. She knew he was right, but more then anything did she want to prove that she was better then Darla. The fear of him leaving her was still there, and it was still great, and she didn't know what she could do to make it go away. Tentatively, she slid her hand down his stomach, resting at the waistband of his boxers. He watched her silently, then looked to see her expression; she was nervous.

"Can I...can I touch you?"

He placed his hand on hers, caressing her fingers softly.

"Only if you want to. Only if you feel you are ready."

She slid her hand away from his, gently stroking his stomach in thought.

"I think I should..."

"...wait. It's alright."

-+-+-+-+-+-+-

They sat at the table together, quietly snacking and talking about nothing in particular. It was comfortable. Looking at the time, Angel stood, kissing Buffy on the forehead as he made his way out of the kitchen and walking towards the front door. Mail was to be expected. He opened the door and checked the mailbox; quite a few letters filled the once empty space. Sighing, he pulled the bundle out and began to fish through it as he made his way back to the kitchen. Sitting down again, he began handing Buffy her mail; a letter from her mom, a magazine, another magazine, and...

He stared at the letter for a moment, only holding it tightly in his hands before scanning the return address.

"Angel," he heard her soft voice. "What's wrong?"

He looked up at her again, then down at the letter in his hand. He passed it to her slowly. He didn't know how she was going to be able to handle this.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"It was my sisters son," she raged, but the man in front of her looked less then amused with her actions.

"And the girl is clearly not guilty. You know, we can get in trouble if you pursue this, Liliah. I suggest you don't."

"But she murdered him!"

"And he was beating and raping her! Who is a jury going to side with? A rapist or his victim?"

She paced a few steps before turning back to him.

"We don't know the whole story. We're just supposed to believe her?"

"Liliah. There were pictures, documents, witnesses-"

"The only witness to her wounds was her lover. Does that really count?"

"Of course it does. He was under oath. And the friend also was a witness."

"But--"

"Listen to me. If you continue to pursue this, you will be doing it on your own time. Wolfram and Hart will not be involved. But more importantly, do not contact the girl. Unless you have sufficient evidence against her and her claims, you leave her be. We don't need a harassment lawsuit on our asses...as ironic as that'd be."

Liliah sighed and left her bosses office, knowing very well that he didn't know about the letter she had sent to the 'victim'. She was really gonna get it this time.

-+-+-+-+-+-

**It's poopy, it's short, but I think it's better then nothing. And, we're introducing W&H more into the story! w00ts! I'm sorry for the lateness and I will try my best to update sooner and better. **


	10. Chapter 9

She opened her eyes lazily; the rays of the sun peaking through the curtains of a nearby window had awoken her, reminding her of a brand new day. It was almost as if she was seventeen again, happily greeting the morning because she knew that later in the day she would get to see her Angel. Opening her eyes fully, she inhaled sharply, the familiarity of the bedroom hitting her like a ton of bricks.

This was not their bedroom.

With a cry, she tried to jump from the bed, but found that her hands, as they usually were, had been bound to the headboard. Panicking, she began to flail on the bed; desperately trying to free herself from what she was sure would be her death bed.

She remembered this; this feeling of dread and absolute horror. Hot tears poured down her cheeks, her chest heaving with each sob. He was there, he was angry, and he would have her. She felt his hands on her body, suddenly realizing she was bare and naked to him. All of her fears came to a head as she looked up into his dark eyes, black like nothingness.

He smiled down at her frightened, shaking form as his hands gently caressed her. He did not care that she was crying, that she was unwilling and afraid. As a matter of fact, those attributes of hers turned him on greatly, giving him a heady power rush that he couldn't feel any other way. All the scars he gave her, all the screams he elicited from her raw throat, all of her sleepless nights filled with tears, blood and only his pleasure gave him something to look forward to.

She watched as he climbed on top of her, grabbing her throat as he positioned himself at the juncture of her abused thighs. She pleaded with him softly as to not anger him, but he ignored her as if she had never spoken. She averted her gray eyes as he grabbed her by the hip with his free hand, entering her with one swift thrust. He squeezed his hand around her throat with each pound of his pelvis against hers, smiling as she gasped and coughed for air.

She felt him all over her; inside of her body, inside of her mind, crawling inside her skin. She couldn't stop feeling him, even after he let go of her neck and got off of her. What was he doing? Oh, toys; _his _toys. She shook her head, fighting, always fighting.

_Pain. Burning. His name carved into the skin on the inside of her thigh. His bite mark on her breast. Bruises from the handcuffs that kept her on his bed. Blood covered sheets. A disgusting, marred body tainted by a sick fuck and all of his insane ways._

He raised his hand and smacked her across the face, always her face. Hands at her throat, feet kicked at her ribs, a knife he threatened to fuck her with – always violence, pain, rape.

She felt his lips at her ear, whispering words of hate and malice.

_It's what you deserve, you whore.  
You're better off dead.  
You know you like it, Buffy.  
Oh, Buffy, my sweet, dead whore._

She gasped as she felt the cool blade against her thigh. This would be the day that he finally killed her. This would all end now.

"Not quite, sweetness."

She screamed as he began stabbing her between her thighs, her body thrashing and flailing in pain.

"Buffy!" Angel screamed as he shook her, desperately trying to wake her from her obvious nightmare.

Finally, she opened her eyes, gasping for breath as she began to understand what was going on and where she was. He let go of her as she tried to sit up, figuring she would still need a few moments to wake up. She slid out from under the blankets, her sticky with sweat body uncomfortable underneath the heavy comforter. She sat up against the headboard of the bed and pushed the hair out of her face. Taking a deep breath, she finally looked up at him, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wiping away a few stray tears that fell down her cheeks. "I didn't … I don't know what happened."

"Buffy, it's okay," he sighed softly, helplessly watching as she tried to stop herself from crying. "It's alright, sweetheart."

She flinched when he called to her and wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to regulate her breathing. It was just a dream. It was all just a bad dream.

"Do you …" he started to speak, but she shook her head quickly.

"I'm, um …" she sniffled as she got up from their bed in a hurry, almost out the door by time she finished her sentence. "I think I'm just gonna … take a shower."

As she turned her back on him he sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It was the third time this week that she had woken up screaming bloody murder. Once again, she refused to open up to him, so he was left helpless, completely unable to help her against her past and her demons.

He thought for a moment, trying to figure out why now, all of a sudden, her dreams had started to come back and had gotten progressively worse. Quite frankly, he had absolutely no idea. She had been getting better, or so it had seemed. She had been eating, talking, and hell, even hinting at wanting to go visit Faith and Spike at their new apartment. He just couldn't figure out what could be causing such a sudden and hard hitting setback.

All he knew now was that he _had_ to talk to her. He had to get her to tell him what was bringing this all on again. Did the date mean something? Had he said or done something to trigger some kind of memory that keeps replaying in her subconscious? He didn't know, but what he did know was that if he didn't find out, he wouldn't have a snowballs chance in hell of helping her.

**AN: Another small update for you all. So, Buffy's having nightmares again and Angel's TLC won't help. What now?**


End file.
